AN: HAPPY NEW YEAR!
New record length for this chapter: 2383 words without title and author's note. Let's hope I can keep this up!
There's still a bunch of mysteries to be solved and a lot of (plot-)ground left to cover but I've gotten some major problems out of the way. Hope you enjoy!
Love, Annabeth

Welcome to Hogwarts

Harry was silent on the way to the hospital wing but he didn't let go of Betty's hand. He was tiny and terribly thin.

From her research earlier in the year Betty knew that neither of Harry's parents had been short. James was at least equal to Snape in height, and Snape was not a small man. Lily was only a hand or two shorter. Betty hadn't managed to find pictures of the Evanses, but James' father was even taller than James and his mother about Lily's height.

Betty glanced down. She had never seen a child nearly four years of age that thin. Harry didn't seem to have any baby fat; Betty had only managed to get rid of hers a few years ago.

And then there was the note burning a hole in her pocket. She'd read the damn thing on the moving staircase and had continued staring at it until Harry had squeezed her hand suddenly.

Please ask Madame Pomfrey to perform a full examination on Mr Potter.

Ask her specifically to look for any signs of abuse.

The report should be sent directly to my office.

Thank you.

A. D.

Betty didn't even want to think about what some people would do to a child. She hoped for Harry's sake and hers that Madame Pomfrey would not find anything beyond malnourishment. She shivered.

Harry gave her a questioning look and she smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

Then she stopped. They had arrived.

The hospital wing was blessedly empty. It really wouldn't do for a student to see Harry. Betty thanked Lady Luck for the sunny day. She was fairly certain that she was the only student inside at the moment.

Before she could call out the door of Madame Pomfrey's office opened and the matron came out, quietly humming. Betty thought the tune sounded vaguely familiar but she couldn't quite place it.

"Madame Pomfrey! Good afternoon." She started then turned a stern look on Betty.

"Annabeth Gray. What are you-" she had noticed the boy holding Betty's hand. "Well, and who are you?"

"This is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Madame Pomfrey. She's the school nurse." Betty winked at him with a smile. "I once cut off the tip of my finger by accident and she reattached it within minutes. Didn't even leave a scar." She showed him her left index finger. Madam Pomfrey shook her head fondly. Betty had been here more than once; she wasn't clumsy as such (meaning only that she didn't trip every three steps) but she'd often managed to injure herself by not paying attention. Luckily, a concussion had been the worst of it.

Harry smiled tentatively and Betty let her hand fall back to her side. The rustle of paper as her hand brushed her pocket made her straighten up and hand the note to Madame Pomfrey solemnly. "Professor Dumbledore asked me to show you this." The matron wouldn't mind the minor lie once she saw the contents of the note. Betty really didn't want Harry to hear what it said.

Madame Pomfrey looked from the note to Betty to Harry, and then she made him sit on one of the beds and offered him a piece of chocolate. He closed his eyes and a blissful expression stole over the small pale face at the first taste. Madame Pomfrey took the opportunity to wave her wand over him. She frowned.

Under the cover of loud shouting outside Betty quietly told Madame Pomfrey, "Professor Snape was the one who brought him here. Dumbledore had only sent him to check on Harry and he returned carrying him." The matron shot her an incredulous look but the expression on Betty's face appeared to convince her of the truth of the statement. She nodded.

"Well then, Mr. Potter, when did you last eat?"

Harry's eyes snapped open and he glanced between the two women warily. Betty smiled reassuringly. "This morning."

Madame Pomfrey nodded. "I shall send for supper then." She turned back to her office. At the door she stopped and looked back at them. "You may leave. Mr. Potter, you should take a bath. Return when you're clean." Then she was gone.

Betty's smile had frozen on her face. Harry watched her cautiously as they walked, still nibbling his chocolate. Good God, the child hadn't eaten for about ten hours. It was a school day, morning would have been at around seven. Betty glanced at her watch. It was past 5 pm now. Well, no help for it. Madame Pomfrey would have supper ready once they returned to the hospital wing.

Taking Harry to the Prefects' bathroom and getting him clean to satisfy Madam Pomfrey was a much more immediate concern. "Squeaky-clean." Betty told the fourth door to the left of Boris the Bewildered.

She shooed Harry inside first and made sure to lock the door behind them. His mouth and eyes were wide open as he looked around the room. Betty snorted. She'd reacted much the same way when she'd first come here. Joanne, the female prefect of their year, had shown her only this year.

Persuading Harry to undress proved to be a bit of a challenge; Betty had to turn her back and wait until Harry was safely up to his neck in bubbles.

While he enjoyed the hot water and played with the bubbles Betty decided to take a closer look at his clothes. Magic had been used on them recently. She could feel it in her fingertips where she touched the cloth (a useful and luckily learnable skill that had taken her years to acquire. It still took a lot of focus). Whatever magic had been used on these clothes had not improved their fashionableness. Transfiguration might help here. Buying new clothes was definitely the best option but this was only a temporary solution after all.

By the time Harry left the tub (this time without making Betty turn her back) the shirt had gone from muddy brown and shapeless to your average dark blue t-shirt, the trousers from washed out grey to blue jeans. Betty mentally thanked Raphaela for that phase when she'd refused to wear anything but boys' clothes. Little girls' jeans were very different from little boys' jeans, and if they said "write what you know" Betty thought the same thing went for transfiguring things.

She watched him dress, moving gingerly as though he expected the clothes to return to their original ugliness at any moment. He kept shooting her looks; questioning, awed, wary. It was easier to count the spots that weren't covered in bruises than the ones that were. They were in various stages of healing, though the ones on his ribs looked pretty fresh. The green bruise on Harry's upper arm was hand-shaped, as if someone had squeezed it very hard.

They were already halfway back to the hospital wing when Betty saw Harry shiver and wrap his arms around himself. "Are you cold? Oh my, your hair's still wet. Hold still for a moment."

She waved her wand at him and his hair began to steam and dry. She waved her wand again, making the air around the two of them warm up. The cold absorbed into the stone during the winter was welcome when you came in from the hot sun, but to a small child in thin clothes who was very hungry (Harry's stomach growled, as though it were agreeing) and probably exhausted, the cold was just that.

Betty was three steps ahead before she realized Harry hadn't moved. He was staring at her, open-mouthed. "Well, come on. Madame Pomfrey is waiting for us." She gestured for him to follow her but Harry didn't move.

"How did you do that?"

Uh oh. She hadn't expected that she'd ever have to explain magic. Until she'd received her Hogwarts letter magic had been the stuff of fairytales, generally used by evil witches (Aunt Jessie had slipped up a few times and replaced the w with a b. Mum and Dad had NOT been amused). The Grays had regarded the Letter as a joke. Until they'd been visited by Mrs. Carter, who had explained and demonstrated the existence of magic and Diagon Alley.

After that, magic had become a part of her, like her dark hair or her favourite colour (purple) or the little scar on her right thigh.

And now this little kid wanted her to explain. Well, she'd do her best.

"That was magic. I'm a witch, and this is Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The man who brought you here is Professor Snape. He teaches Potions. The man with the long white hair and beard is Headmaster Dumbledore. They and Madame Pomfrey and the students and the other teachers are all witches and wizards. And so are you, unless I'm very much mistaken." She wasn't. The kid was practically leaking magic.

He still wasn't moving and his eyes were big as saucers, though his mouth was shut now. Betty sighed and reached for his hand.

They did not speak again until they reached the hospital wing.

There were voices inside. Betty couldn't make out what they were saying but she recognized Snape and Madame Pomfrey. When she opened the door she saw Dumbledore was with them.

They went quiet the instant they realized they weren't alone. Ugh, awkward much? "We're back." Betty said, unnecessarily. Then she saw the tray beside one of the beds. "Look, the food's here." She tugged Harry forward. "You need to eat."

The tension relaxed a bit and the adults continued their conversation, though the topic had turned to the summer. That or they're just talking in code.

Severus wasn't taking part in the others' small-talk, instead watching Potter and Miss Gray. The child still showed some fear toward anyone bigger than him, likely would for some time yet, but he at least seemed willing to trust Miss Gray.

He called her 'ma'am' until she laughed and told him to call her Betty, adding that she wasn't even an adult so there was no need for such formality.

Severus knew for a fact that wasn't true. She'd turned seventeen that January, her birthday was a mere two days before his own, which was the main reason he'd remembered it at all. The other being that her friend Turner had seen fit to announce the fact in the Great Hall at breakfast. It had been a while since he'd seen anyone turn quite that red.

Now, though there didn't seem to be any immaturity in her. She didn't push Potter, just answered his questions, even unasked as they were. She showed him bits of magic; in fact she was changing her shirt's colour from deep purple to bright green to scarlet with pink hearts back to purple. Come to think of it, she'd obviously transfigured Potter's clothes from the shapeless lumps they'd been when Severus found him. And he had to admit, she'd done a decent job.

The sound of his name made him turn away from the pair. Dumbledore and Pomfrey were studying a scroll of parchment held in her hands. He came to stand beside her, noticing that it was the medical file for a Mister Potter, Harry James. Humph. There were several extra sheets attached.

The first sheet, with St. Mungo's crest at the top, was a birth certificate. Severus skimmed over most of it; father, mother, place, date and time- Huh, the boy had been born at midnight. That was interesting.

The next sheet was a record of regular check-ups for the months after birth. According to this Potter was a strong healthy child, on the upper scale of average weight and height. Severus glanced at the child in question. Obviously no one had bothered to confirm the continuation of that state.

There were a number of other not at all interesting documents but the parchment Dumbledore and Pomfrey were reading so intently was Pomfrey's own preliminary report.

Great Merlin! The child was badly malnourished, too small and too light for his age, several of his bones had been broken at some point, he was covered in bruises, and his eyesight alone was cause for alarm. It isn't like living in the dark gives one eyes like a hawk, and Potter probably inherited his father's eyesight along with his hair. I must say, I rather pity the child.

He'd been right to fear reading this report, and he did not intend to find out whatever Pomfrey's deeper scans might reveal.

He shivered, thinking of the tiny cupboard and the filthy mattress and the huge clothes.

Petunia's son on the other hand, was obviously overweight and spoiled rotten. Severus wouldn't be surprised if he was the cause of some of Potter's healed breaks. Best bring that up with Dumbledore, along with a hint that perhaps that one would be better off with foster parents.

A strange noise startled him from his contemplation of revenge and he turned back to Potter and Miss Gray.

The girl was smiling and the child's face was flushed. The noise seemed to have come from him. As he watched Miss Gray said something and the noise repeated itself. It took a moment but then he realized that Potter was giggling.

Well, she'd just earned his respect. There was a fair number of abused children at Hogwarts, Slytherin especially, and he'd never heard of anyone who'd managed to make one of them laugh on the first day of acquaintance. That girl was certainly gifted.

The thought struck him like a freight train. Potter liked and trusted her. If she left now, the boy would heal but it was unlikely that he would ever trust another adult the way he trusted Miss Gray. Not to mention that the boy might assume responsibility for her leaving, thinking he'd driven her away.

No, that mustn't happen. Someone must take the child to visit her during the summer. Constant contact would be preferable at this stage but that couldn't be helped, there was no way the boy could spend the summer with her nor could she stay at Hogwarts.

Dumbledore could surely find a solution, Severus would tell him of his thoughts. Just as long as they could get Miss Gray to agree.